A MIRAGE.

Were I thy bride,

Then the whole world beside

Were not too wide

To hold my wealth of love —

Were I thy bride!

Upon thy breast

My loving head would rest,

As on her nest

The tender turtle dove —

Were I thy bride!

This heart of mine

Would be one heart with thine,

And in that shrine

Our happiness would dwell —

Were I thy bride!

And all day long

Our lives should be a song:

No grief, no wrong

Should make my heart rebel —

Were I thy bride!

The silvery flute,

The melancholy lute,

Were night owl's hoot

To my low-whispered coo —

Were I thy bride!

The skylark's trill

Were but discordance shrill

To the soft thrill

Of wooing as I'd woo —

Were I thy bride!

The rose's sigh

Were as a carrion's cry

To lullaby

Such as I'd sing to thee,

Were I thy bride!

A feather's press

Were leaden heaviness

To my caress.

But then, unhappily,

I'm not thy bride!